Kim Possible Responsibility
by Absentialuci
Summary: Kim helps a would-be friend in need, and proves that one's responsibility to others can never be excessive. Alternate entry to the Cheerleader writing competition.


KIM POSSIBLE, RON STOPPABLE AND OTHERS ARE THE PROPERTY OF DISNEY AND THEIR RESPECTIVE ARTISTS

In hindsight, it is amazing the things she accomplished. She was equal parts student, lover, friend, warrior. She always made it seem so easy, moving effortlessly from putting together cheer routines to being an emotional pillar to her friends to saving the world. It was only after she defeated the Diablo robots that we all sat up and started to take notice, serious notice, of the red-headed dynamo in our midst. There were still some detractors, but no one begrudged her the accolades she was awarded. We all knew she deserved each and every one of them.

In college, she flourished. She graduated with her degree in biology, becoming the cornerstone for the Memento retroviral treatment for Alzheimer's. She was known as Kimberly Anne Possible, the world's hero. Politicians, experts and talking heads alike called her a cultural phenomenon, an inspiration to the vulgis mobile, proof positive that good was still present in the world. She was the saving grace of millions, but was never above helping the stranded motorist, or finding a lost puppy. She took them all as they came, and they loved her for it.

I knew her for four years in high school. I was part of the cheerleading team, a shy teenager looking for a modicum of social acceptance by putting on a short skirt and waving around pom-poms. I found the acceptance, slowly, but more importantly, I found in her a role model. I was new to Middleton; my parents recently split. I was having a hard time adjusting. It showed in my class work, my social anxiety, my acting out. I was so angry at my parents, so scared that it might have been because of me. I felt so empty. She was the only one who noticed. Even as she struggled to save the world from mad scientists, disgruntled Scottish golfers, deranged geneticists and psychotic mechanics, she saw it all and it was her that changed my life.

--

I was curled up on my bed one night when she threw a small pebble at my window. I opened it and looked down. She saw me and smiled, "Come on, Jessica." I closed my window and lay back down on my comforter, curling back up and hugging my knees to my chest. More pebbles followed, but I didn't get up. The next thing I knew, she was pushing up my window and free mantling into my room. I just watched her.

I remember the moonlight in her hair, giving it streaks of color like molten glass. I remember observing how effortlessly she carried herself as she finished coming through the window, as if she were just another happy-go-lucky teenager, as if the weight of the world didn't sometimes rest on her shoulders. I remember that she was dressed in simple black cargo pants and a dark green top, and how even such drab clothing looked amazing on her. She picked at a piece of lint on her sleeve and flicked it off, watching idly as it floated to the floor. Most of all, I remember the look she gave me as she sat on the foot of my bed.

Her smile was small, more a tuck of the lip than anything. But her eyes…her eyes watched me like emerald soul stones. They were at once soft with kindness, blazing with intense inner strength and opalescent with concern. She spoke, and her voice was furry with emotion, "What's wrong, Jessica?"

I didn't answer, but she wasn't deterred, "I know you're smart enough for the school work, but you earn D's and C's. I know you can do the routines, but you dropped Tara this afternoon and constantly forget your steps. You could have any guy you want and be friends with anyone, but you don't let anyone get to know you."

She looked to me, maybe expecting a response. I just buried my head in my knees, peeking out at her through the gap between my knees.

She looked away and nodded slowly to herself, her eyes focusing on something only she could see. "You're scared." She nodded again, cocking her head to one side and looking down at me. "You're scared to be the new kid in town. Maybe you're frightened of the kids at school; some of them can be…difficult." At this I knew she was thinking of Bonnie. Still, I said nothing, did nothing but breathe in my own scent of lavender body wash and uncertainty.

"I've only known you for a little while, Jessica and already I can tell you things about yourself." She stood suddenly and walked over to my hutch, stooping slightly to admire my Cuddle Buddy collection.

I felt a blaze of anger and unfurled my legs, letting them dangle over the side of the bed as I sat up. I self-consciously tugged down the hem of my top; it had ridden up when I moved, exposing my mid-riff. I glared at her, "You come into my room, uninvited, mind you, tell me that no one knows me and then go on to say that you can already tell me things about myself? Anything might be possible for a Possible, Kim, but you're pushing it."

She stood and turned around, leaning against the corner of my hutch and folding her arms across her chest. "Then I'm sorry, Jessica. I didn't mean to upset you. But why are you like this? Is it your parents?"

"What would you know about that?" I asked. My anger clipped each word off sharply.

She waved her hand dismissively in front of her face, "I just know these things. I've wanted to talk to you for some time now, but you always leave right after practice so I've never had the chance. Why won't you let us get to know you, why won't you get involved, put yourself out there?" Her eyes were earnest as she spoke, and I felt my anger dampen.

"I…I don't know why. You all seem really nice, with an obvious exception," At this, Kim smiled before putting a hand over her mouth for decorum's sake. I sighed, "I'm so tired, Kim. I'm tired of being my mom's smiling little girl, of being my dad's perfect princess. My family fell apart last year, and it's like my parents expect me to go on like nothing happened. Most of all, most of all I'm tired of being me." With that last confession the tears came, hot, fast and completely unexpected. I fell over onto my side, my breath hitching in my throat as I cried.

I was dimly aware of her sitting down near my head. I started when she ran her fingers gently through the spun gold of my hair. Her hand was warm and soft. She leaned down to my ear and her voice was measured, like smoke through silk, "Don't let it beat you, Jessica. Life is a bitch, and she's always having puppies. But it always gets better. Always. All you need to have is the strength to see through the darkness, and await the coming of the light."

Her fingers continued to absently comb my hair. I looked up at her. She was staring off into space, her face a studious blank. I sniffed. It was an ugly sound; my nose was full of snot. "Why are you being so nice to me? You don't know me at all; I've done nothing to endear myself to you…"

She looked down at me, her burnt red hair dropping over her right eye. She pushed it back with a practiced motion and smiled. "One's sense of responsibility to others can never be excessive, Jessica. You're my teammate, my schoolmate, and if you'll let me be, your friend." She continued to smile down at me beatifically.

"Yeah…all right," I said with a reluctance I didn't feel.

"Then come on. Some of the girls and I are meeting in a little while to watch some movies. I'd really like for you to come, too." Her voice was hopeful. She sounded for all the world like a little girl, and not the sixteen year-old hero she actually was. I smiled in spite of myself.

"You won me over. Let me get dressed, Kim." I pushed myself up off my bed and walked over to my dresser, opening drawers, looking for something to wear. Kim walked to my bedroom door and made to step out into the hall.

"Kim?" I said. She paused, half in my room and half out, turning back to look at me.

"Yeah, Jess?"

"I guess anything really is possible for a Possible, huh?"

Kim just smiled as she stepped outside into the hall, drawing the door closed behind her.


End file.
